Do you think that you'd need
some sort of apology
When you come to me
While I'm still dreaming?
Do you think this could make
an awkward autopsy
Because I'm too dizzy to be
Agreeing?
Caught on the hook
You played it
right by the book.
You took your time
And little of mine
and now I'm the one
Left leaving.
And screaming
And trying,
But not really believing
In anything
but a bereaved blessing,
All forgotten and festering
Though unnoticed,
Still attesting
To it's wasteland existence.
Porous, dry and without pigment
Like the skin of an overgrown pigglet
Time for slaughter,
Courtesy of the indignant.
In death too *****
To be a meat worth eating,
Your glory days
Of **** wallowing wonder
were fleeting,
And you knew it from day one
But it wasn't till near seventeen
You began to come undone,
Got a little high strung
And grew a knife for a tongue
Plunged straight into the heart
With snide remarks and whispers
Of text messages
Left off the charts
And I'm left in the dark
To inside jokes
Of feigned friendship
I suppose I'm waiting
For what you forgot to mention.
Yes,
You've always had
good intentions
Just
... no direction
And little discretion
I'm sorry,
I'm sorry...
But I must change direction.
Cem 5.4.15
May 5, 2015
May 5, 2015 at 12:28 AM UTC
Do you think that you'd need
some sort of apology
When you come to me
While I'm still dreaming?
Do you think this could make
an awkward autopsy
Because I'm too dizzy to be
Agreeing?
Caught on the hook
You played it
right by the book.
You took your time
And little of mine
and now I'm the one
Left leaving.
And screaming
And trying,
But not really believing
In anything
but a bereaved blessing,
All forgotten and festering
Though unnoticed,
Still attesting
To it's wasteland existence.
Porous, dry and without pigment
Like the skin of an overgrown pigglet
Time for slaughter,
Courtesy of the indignant.
In death too *****
To be a meat worth eating,
Your glory days
Of **** wallowing wonder
were fleeting,
And you knew it from day one
But it wasn't till near seventeen
You began to come undone,
Got a little high strung
And grew a knife for a tongue
Plunged straight into the heart
With snide remarks and whispers
Of text messages
Left off the charts
And I'm left in the dark
To inside jokes
Of feigned friendship
I suppose I'm waiting
For what you forgot to mention.
Yes,
You've always had
good intentions
Just
... no direction
And little discretion
I'm sorry,
I'm sorry...
But I must change direction.
Cem 5.4.15
